Holding onto the Pieces
by Creamy Chessnut
Summary: With Harry away on a secret mission, and Dumbledore dead, Neville Longbottom assumed that life couldn't get any worse. However, he is soon proven wrong. With Snape as Headmaster, and the Carrows as teachers, Hogwarts is not the place it use to be. Knowing that something has to be done, Neville begins to rebel, holding onto pieces of hope, bringing Dumbledore's Army back to life...


Holding onto the Peices

Chapter 1

"This isn't Hogwarts," Neville Longbottom muttered angrily, as Snape stood up to talk. "It's changed; for the worse. With Dumbledore dead, Harry out on a mission, and Snape as Headmaster, Voldemort could just walk right in, and kill the lot of us." "Don't say his name," Ginny Weasley whispered, a hint of aggression in her tone. "There's no point in angering him." Neville scoffed. "He's probably already angry already; lost two of his deatheaters so they could work as teachers." Ginny scowled but replied anyway."I suppose. What's the point of even coming here now?" "Yeah, I know," Neville mumbled, looking towards the front.

"Welcome back," Snape started, looking around the great hall. No one was taking any notice of him, accept the Slytherins. "As this year begins, I am pleased to be your New Headmaster; Dumbledore himself requested I should suceed him." Neville rolled his eyes. "I have a few announcements. Starting this year, we have two new teachers joining the staff. Our new Dark arts teacher, is Amycus Carrow." As Snape said 'Dark arts', everybody looked around shocked. "Seriously? Dark arts?" A fourth year Gryffindor shouted out. "What are we supposed to do in that lesson? I thought it was _Defence against the Dark arts." _Snape's cold eyes darted towards him. "Due to the circumstances, we have been informed that learning this topic will come in handy." "Why? We should be learning to defend ourselves, not the other way round! Do you think a Deatheater teaching us will help? Dark Arts? Ha." Snape's gaze didn't fall. "The Dark arts is a serious topic, which given to the war that is raging on, could save you life. And having someone _experienced _will help."

"Experienced? He is the reason that some of us are without family members! Without those we care about! If anything, we need to learn how to stop Dark magic, not learn how to construct it! _Defence_ against the Dark Arts! That is what we need to know! _Defensive spells!" _It was Neville who spoke this time. Everyone turned to look at him, shocked. Neville was shocked himself. "Mr Longbottom, defensive spells are useful, yet many of those who have used the Dark Arts are still around fighting today. And matters of judgement of _my _staff will not be spoken about at this moment." "Professor, why didn't Dumbledore have us learn the Dark arts then? Dumbledore cared about us more than anything. You do not care about us; this is a death sentence!" Ginny nudged him with her elbow, angrily. "This is of the Ministers wishings, Longbottom, so therefore you are questioning the highest authority in the country." It was obvious that Snape was losing his temper. "Professor, we all know who really is controling the Ministry; we aren't as stupid as you think. We all know fully well who's idea it was for us to learn this. And you know who I mean; _Voldemort." _Ginny actually cried out loud. "Longbot-." "Let me handle this," Amycus Carrow snarled, getting up from his seat. He walked to the front, next to Snape. "You two!" He roared, indicating Neville, and the fourth year.

Neville bit his lip hard, as he stood up, standing strong. Now he had done it. A ruthless deatheater could kill him in a second. The Fourth year boy walked past Neville, showing courage, showing Gryffindor bravery. Neville followed cautiously. "_It's okay," _he thought. _"Just stay strong."_ When they reached the front, Amycus shouted, "KNEEL!" Neither of the two boys did. "I see, I see," Amycus growled. "Trying to put on a show, eh? For your fellow classmates? Well, we shall see. Alecto, take the younger one. I think this goes for punishment b, don't you think?" His sister, Alecto stepped forward, her lips in a slight smile. Neville noticed Professor McGonagall quiver, but she didn't say anything.

Amycus and Alecto pointed their wands towards the boys, yelling at the same time, "CRUCIO!" Neville fell to the floor, screaming in pain. It was like a million burns, his bones melting in flames. He could hear the boy beside him scream aswell, and distantly, he heard cruel, heart-wrenching laughter. He shook violently, screams subconciously leaving his mouth. It seemed to last forever, the burning, the fire, and Neville found himself crying, tears leaking down his face. He curled up into a ball, roaring with all his might.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!" A voice echoed around the Great Hall. Suddenly, the spell faltered to a stop. The pain was still alive in Neville's body, and he was still shaking and crying. "Who are you, to stop us?" Snapped Alecto. Neville tried to open his eyes, to see the scene before him, but his eyelids were drilled closed. "I am head of their house, and therefore I think that their punishment should be comfirmed with me, before it is inflicted upon them." Neville realised the voice belonged to Professor McGonagall. "We are head of disipline, so we have the final word," Amycus barked. "Gryffindor is the house that belongs to me, and my judgement has a great deal of importance." McGonagall words were cold. Silence. Neville was still twitching.

"Seamus, Colin, take Neville and Jack to the hospital wing. Quickly." The command was given by Professor McGonagall. The sound of footprints came closer and closer, until they reached the front. "What do we do miss? I don't think they can stand?" Seamus said. "Do the best you can," was her simple reply.

Neville felt his arms lift up, which were still shaking. Slowly, he felt himself being dragged across the floor. After a while, he knew he was out of the Great Hall, when Seamus muttered, "Are you mad, Nev? They mean it, 'em Carrows. Me mam told me to be carefull, now Dumbledore's gone, but never did I think this would happen." Neville didn't reply, he just moaned, his bones still burning. "Be careful, now, we have to."

After being dragged up for what seemed like forever, Neville suddenly heard. "Oh my!" It was Madam Promfreys voice. "What happened," she said, and Neville heard her rushing over to him. He felt himself being lifted, groaning loudly. "The Carrows. Neville was questioning why we are doing Dark arts; that's all. They used the crutatious curse on him, and a fourth year called Jack I think- him." Neville heard Jack being dragged into the room, moaning and crying in pain. "Here Madam Promfrey," Colins voice echoed. "He, well, the Carrows,-" "Yes, I know, dear. Thank you."

Neville felt himself being lifted up onto a bed, by who he assumed was Madam Promfrey and Seamus. His head fell back into the softness of the pillow, still aching, the fire still not put out. "Are they awake?" She asked Seamus. "I think so." He replied quietly. "Hmm, I need to give them some medicine. To help them rest, and ease the pain." Neville heard her walk away, probably going to get the medicine. "Are you alright, Nev? Your Mam would be proud of you. Your pa would too." Neville shuffled slightly, telling Seamus in words that he heard him. "You did 'em proud."

"He's awake, Madam. But I don't think he can move much." "Right, then, Neville? I am going to inject you some medicine with a needle. It won't hurt much; I promise." In his arm, left or right, he wasn't sure, there was suddenly a pinch. It was nothing to the pain he had just endured, but it ached, due to the fire. After no time at all, Neville began feeling tired. Very tied. And before he knew it, he was falling asleep...

It was dark. Black. High laughter erruped in a corner of the darkness, cold and evil. "NO!" Someone screamed. Neville ran over to where the voice had come from. There lying on the floor, writhing in pain, was his Mother. "MUM!" He yelled. She didn't seem to hear him, but just kept screaming. "Oh dear, oh dear, what a pity?" Neville recognised the voice instantly. He shot round, and saw her standing before him. Dark curly hair. Cold, peircing eyes. Bellatrix Lestrange.

He launched at her, running at her with all his might, yet he passed straight through her, as if she wasn't there. She didn't even notice him. "You have one more chance. One more chance. Now!" "No. I can't and I won't." His mother was still lying on the floor, crying in pain. "Very well. CRUCIO!"

The scream coming from his mothers mouth, made him cry out loud in fury. Her body was shaking violently, her scream filled with pain, and terror. Bellatrix laughed loudly. "Not so brave now, are we?" "Please," Alice Longbottom whispered. "Please." "Ah, pleading for death now are we?" Smirked Bellatrix. "Please," she whispered again. "CRUCIO!" She screamed again, crying. Neville wanted to do something, to kill Bellatrix, to save his mother, but he couldn't. It was like he was a ghost.

Suddenly, the image of his mother screaming turned into his father Frank. Two others, who Neville didn't know by name, joined Bellatrix, and together they yelled "CRUCIO!" Neville knew that his father couldn't take it. The screaming showed much more than Neville thought was possible. His screams showed terror, pain, and the true madness which was over taking him. All Neville could do, was watch. Was watch his father turn mad, fighting a battle Neville knew he would he would lose. He wanted to scream, to cry, to show his feelings.

Bellatrix laughed, a cold smile on her lips, as Frank Longbottom finally fell silent, unconcious. Neville felt himself fade away, far from his father, faw from the laughing, until finally, it was silent.


End file.
